Alpine Bloom
by CosmicKitten89
Summary: Liechtenstein visited Austria with the intention of making peace between her brother and Roderich.  But now, she cannot wait to get into the Austrian's fancy pants.  LiechtensteinXAustria; Liech is first for a reason.  Liech's POV.  Smutty later on.
1. Over Milk

I am once again at the grocery store with Big Brother, and once again we run into Austria, and once again Big Brother gets into a spat with him.

I sigh. Big Brother goes to the World Supermarket once a week, every week, always on the same day of the week and at the same time of day. Austria is just as punctual as Big Brother is, and he happens to be in the habit of shopping at the same day and time, so one might swear that Big Brother is asking for it.

Big Brother avoids him whenever he can, but there are times like this when a confrontation is unavoidable.

Today Big Brother and Austria are fighting over the last jug of milk.

"Hands off, you prissy cheapskate! This milk is mine, I spotted it first!"

"If I am not mistaken, it was I that touched the milk first," Austria gently retorts. "What do you want with this milk anyway, it comes from Austrian cows!"

"But it's the very cheapest milk for me that they have at this store! Go buy some of that expensive organic milk you like so much instead!"

I tug on Brother's sleeve. "Big Brother, powdered milk is cheaper," I say, holding a box of the dehydrated milk solids that I found in the boxed foods section.

"She's right, you know," Austria adds, a very subtle hint of a smirk on his face.

Big Brother's eyes flicker between the powdered milk and the jug of milk, as if calculating the money he would save by buying the inferior dried variety. Tensely shaking, he reaches his hand to take the powdered milk. He turns his face around and glares at Austria's face.

"Then why don't you buy it yourself, you skinflint!"

Brother pulls the milk away as hard as he can, and, being much stronger than Austria, he very nearly wrests it away from him. Fingers slipping, Austria turns around to look at the cheese section.

"Wow, is that a two for one sale on _Emmentaler_?"

_Emmentaler_ is Brother's favorite type of cheese, although he is loath to admit that he actually likes it more than the cheap processed cheese that he normally buys. Always jumping at the opportunity to get high-grade stuff at a tremendous bargain, he lets go of the milk jug and runs to the cheese aisle.

Austria puts the milk in his cart and gets in line to pay for it. "I cannot believe that you actually fell for that!"

Big Brother screams in rage when he finds out that there is no such deal on the holey Swiss cheese.

"See, THAT is why I cannot stand Roderich!"

"But he's normally much nicer to you! Remember when he took us out to eat?"

Brother grits his teeth and seethes as he watches Austria pay for his milk and bag his groceries.

"He can have his damn Austrian milk anyway. We're getting the powdered milk."

When I get home, I sit alone and wonder. Why would a peaceful, neutral country such as Big Brother feel such enmity toward any other country, let alone his Alpine neighbor? Especially considering that Austria had always been so polite to him…

Perhaps, being a country locked between the two of them, I ought to take it as my responsibility to broker some peace between them.

I decide to visit Austria's house (which is a lot harder to get to than Big Brother's house, since he, unlike Austria, does not feel the need to border-patrol the Principality of Liechtenstein).

Just before I ring the doorbell, I hear a lively piano melody being played. I step to the side of the house to peek through the window.

Austria is fully absorbed into his piano playing. His body rocks gently to the tune of the melody being played; his fingers prance swiftly and delicately over the keys, pressing each one with unnecessary flourish; his eyes are closed, but he still knows where all the keys are.

It is lovely to watch. HE is lovely to watch.

I decide to wait until he takes a break to ring the doorbell.

Even his doorbell is lovely to listen to.

"Liechtenstein? Fancy seeing you here."

I blush and look down. "I-I just wanted to say hi, and-and apologize for my brother's behavior…"

Austria laughs gently. "I am afraid that I must apologize for the way I tricked him. Please, come in and make yourself at home."

Austria's house is so pretty – even prettier than Big Brother's – and bigger too.

Austria leads me to a seat and presents me with a platter full of cakes and strudel, and a cup of iced coffee with ice cream on it.

"Are you enjoying the _Linzer Augen_ and the _Wiener Eiskaffee_?" Austria asks.

Very much. "_Danke_." I cram a bite of another _Linzer_ into my mouth. My, what an excellent pastry chef he is! And the coffee is excellent too.

"So, Austria, I was wondering… what exactly does Switzerland dislike so much about you?"

"Well, that's quite a complicated question." Austria sighs, folds his hands, crosses his legs and stares out the window that I had been peeping at him through earlier. "Vash and I used to be very close friends, as a matter of fact… practically brothers…"

Knowing this made it even more puzzling. "What did you do that was so bad that he holds such a grudge against you?"

"Well… some consider me to be quite… useless. Vash would always complain about how weak I was and how he always had to save me…"

"Just as he had saved me…"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. But I am apparently too weak to help him out when he needs it, not to mention too stingy. And he wouldn't be the only nation to refer to me as a freeloader…"

So Austria is weak, stingy, and parasitic, and yet he still somehow managed to build up a great empire… probably through marriage, or by seducing the other countries with fine music and treats, or even by elegant charm alone…

"What ever happened to your empire?"

"Well, you see, I was married to Hungary, and we were in charge of several smaller nation-states. Now the dangerous thing about running an empire is that the other countries in your empire sometimes don't take kindly to being run by a greater country, which creates for a lot of tension. And if this tension should cause an incident to happen…"

Austria paused to sip his own_ Eiskaffee_. "Every country that you form an alliance with will rush to defend you, as will every country that each of those countries have an alliance with… before you know it, the entire world is at war.

"And so the League of Nations came to the agreement that I should divorce Hungary and dissolve all of my alliances, for the sake of peace. Some years later I went to live with Germany, which he didn't like at all… then that ended, and I have been alone ever since."

"I'll bet you miss being at the head of a powerful empire, huh?" I ask.

"Not really. I rather prefer the peace."

"But the solitude?"

"Oh, well, I get plenty of visitors. I am on good terms with Hungary and Germany, and Italy has more than forgiven me for the way I treated him when he was my underling, and Prussia – or East Germany, as he's now called – has not been able to bother me since they shut him behind the Iron Curtain, thank goodness."

"But do you miss being married?"

Austria sighs. Perhaps I should not have asked him such a personal question.

"How would you like for me to give you a piano lesson?"

"Yes, please!" I am a little TOO excited. Perhaps it's the coffee.

I sit next to Austria on the piano bench as he teaches me the names of the notes and tells me why the black keys are arranged the way they are arranged. As he arranges the fingers on my left hand, I reach my right hand over and absentmindedly stroke the blue fabric on the sleeve of his beautiful old-fashioned style outfit. His arm stiffens at my touch.

"Sorry." I turn hot and put my right hand on the piano. I want to play the piano like him, perhaps even just because of him. But right now I just can't, because he is too distracting. I scoot closer and put my nose to his clothing. Smells of coffee, and chocolate, and a hint of rose…

Austria slides farther away from me in response to me violating him.

"Can you play that bit of _F__ü__r Elise_ that I just showed you?"

"Oh, sure." I toy with the keys, playing it incorrectly at first, until I get it to sound right.

Austria claps his hands. "Good, very good. You play by ear, which is good."

I blush with pride at his praise. Perhaps someday I will be a great pianist like him!

"I believe that we should end our lesson for today, though," he says, looking tired

We get up from the piano bench and he shakes my hand, which gives me a bit of a hand orgasm that shoots up through my arm to my brain.

"It was very nice to properly meet you, Mister Austria," I say, curtsying hastily.

Austria chuckles at my erratic behavior. "I can tell that you're not used to coffee."

I skip out the door, still hyper from the caffeine, but after I do so, I linger around for just a little while to watch him as he continues playing.

I thought from the start that he was a fine-looking gentleman, but I had never noticed before exactly _how_ beautiful he is. Perhaps it's the caffeine, or perhaps he spiked my drink with some love potion, but he looks EXTRA beautiful today.

Like a god. Or an angel.

And again, maybe it's the caffeine, but I _tingle_ in his presence.

In odd places.

In a good way.


	2. Wet and Dreamy

_Austria…_

_Too gorgeous to be real…_

_Eyes a hypnotic, bewitching purple, and sparkly…_

_Behind gentlemanly glasses (GLASSES! Now that's just too much…)_

_Hair that is elegantly disheveled, as oxymoronic as that might sound…_

_Pale, creamy skin, like moonlight… _

_And that mole! It's killing me…_

_And the prettiest clothes! Does he have impeccable taste or what…_

_Body is tall, slender, not too muscly – mmm, delicious…_

_And all the goodness is on the inside too…_

_A good head on his shoulders, the musical talent of all of Austria's great musicians combined…_

_Come to think of it, even his voice is a rhapsody to the ears…_

_The enchantment… the rapture… aah… _mein Gott_… YES!_

I squirm in my bed, humming soft moans as I wake up. My hands had been subconsciously flexing and stretching at my crotch.

What a pleasant dream. I am fuzzy on the details, but the feeling had been crystal clear.

Of course I had to wake up right at the moment of climax. No hope of going back to sleep; I am an early riser, and once I am up, I am up.

As I rise to take a shower, I realize that my panties have become wet. Certainly not with urine, for I had never been a bed wetter, nor with blood, for my period would not begin for another two weeks. No, this discharge was clear, and sticky like snot.

I reflect on my dreamtime thoughts and actions and I feel ashamed. I feel so gross and vulgar and dirty. That is NO way for a proper young lady to think or behave. Though I usually follow Big Brother's advice and take shorter showers and use a modicum of soap, today I take twice as long in the shower and use about three times as much soap.

Tonight, as I go to bed, I resolve NOT to do any more dirty things or think any more dirty thoughts in my dreams, no matter how pretty or handsome I think Austria is.

_Ohhhh, Austria…_

_I want… I want… I WANT!_

I wake up in the middle of the night. I sit up in bed and swoon dreamily over my fantasy lover. Even knowing that, when I am fully awake and out of dreamy thoughts mode I will feel repulsed thinking back on it, I feel myself some more, imagining that it is Roderich feeling me instead, until I am asleep enough to believe that it is indeed Roderich who is feeling me.

A few more nights of this, and I no longer feel dirty about it. All I feel is desire – deep, passionate, burning, GAPING desire – for my sweet Austria. My daydreams turn to petting and hugging him at every idle moment, and though I try to avoid such thoughts, they occasionally turn to my panties.

Roderich would never approve of such behavior. He is a proper gentleman. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that, even after all of his marriages and forced unions, that he was still a virgin. Or half a virgin, anyway; knowing how many other countries must lust for him the way I do, I imagine he must have been raped quite a few times.

Of course, that modest and noble behavior of his is what makes him all the more desirable.

I have avoided Austria this entire week, in a further attempt to repress these insane fantasies. Perhaps this is the wrong way to handle it; absence does make the heart grow fonder, the libido hotter.

I decide to go shopping for a new outfit today to wear to my long overdue piano lesson. I pick a pretty blue dress that looks sort of like the jacket that Austria likes to wear, gold buttons and all, except without the fluffy white thing at the neck. I try it on in the dressing room, put the clothes that I wore to the store in my shopping bag and pay for the dress at the dressing room counter.

Now all I need is a pair of glasses. Brother had often mentioned that Roderich has 20/20 vision and only wears his glasses for vanity's sake. I much admire that he is willing to put up with bullying that he does not have to put up with, being called a nerd and specs and all, so that he can be an individual and look classy instead of following the crowd and looking like a militant thug.

I look through all of the frames on display until I find the pair that looks exactly like Roderich's. I try it on and stare at myself in the mirror.

I sure look classy! Now, maybe if I cut my hair shorter, maybe dye it a dark coffee bean brown, even take a curling iron and some hair gel to get it to curl up on one side like Roderich's –

"Sister?"

I jump. I see Big Brother's face in the mirror. I had forgotten – today is his shopping day! I turn around to say hello.

"What are you…" His eyes are side, his mouth gaping. He puts his hand to his forehead, closes his eyes, shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

"Why are you wearing glasses?"

"Oh, I was just trying them on. For fun." I fold up the frames and put them back on the display rack.

"And you went shopping for a new dress all on your own…"

"W-Why yes I did." I swallow and strain to hide my nervousness. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no, it's just, uh, never mind." Big Brother turns around, sighs, and whispers to himself.

"Sister, I've been meaning to tell you a few things about… Austria…"

"No need, if you please. I've already heard it all."

"Now I know that Austria seems to you to be the perfect gentleman… but that is just a façade. In actuality, he is really very…"

"Horny?" The word slips out before I even have time to give it a thought.

"HORNY? What ever gave you that idea – no, well, I don't know, it's not like I have any personal experience on that facet of his life…"

Big Brother is sweating and talking unusually loudly again, as he usually does when he's trying not to become overwhelmed with emotion.

"What I meant to say is, well, sort of, ahem_… evil_."

"Evil? You can't be serious! Austria is one of the most peaceful countries around!"

"That's what he wants everybody to think! And so far the crafty bastard has done a mighty good job of convincing people of that! World War One was entirely his fault, his and Hungary's, and yet it was Germany, not him, who was forced to manufacture billions of cuckoo clocks to pay off the war debt! And as for Germany's crazy former boss, the one who started World War Two, where do you think he came from? Not Germany, he was an _Austria _native! See, Austria does all the dirty deeds and makes Germany looks like the bad guy. It's a wonder that they can have such a peaceful relationship after all of that – "

"Well maybe because they have decided to let bygones be bygones and move on from the past. Besides, what did Austria ever do to you?"

Big Brother grits his teeth. "He… he… I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU ALL OF THIS! NEED I REMIND YOU?"

"No, Big Brother, I remembered it the first time." I sigh. "B-…"

"Is there something that you want to tell me, Sister?"

"I open my mouth and take a deep yet shaky breath."

"I knew it. Go on…"

"I…" If I am going to say it, I had better say it right away, to avoid suspicion. "I find R-… Austria to be… quite fetching. That is all."

Big Brother scoffs. "Don't we all."

He turns around to walk away, then stops and turns his head around to look at me. His eyes travel from my face down to my clothing, as if scanning it for comparisons to the outfits worn by Roderich. He shakes his head in denial and goes away.

I take the frames back and request for the optometrist to make me a pair in that style but with flat lenses.

"Oh, well, then, you can just have those, they have flat lenses. Nobody buys that style of frames anymore anyway."

"Danke." I get the glasses for way cheaper than it would cost to have them make me a pair of new glasses, let alone with prescription lenses. Big Brother would be proud – that is, if he weren't so anti-Austria.

I debate ordering my own piano. It would be a very pretty thing to have in my house, and after taking some more lessons I would be able to play beautiful music all day just like my beloved does. But it would be expensive, and Brother would probably go ballistic should he come to visit and see me with it.

Not to mention I could no longer use wanting to play the piano as an excuse to visit Roderich…

But still, I can think of quite a few other good reasons for visiting him. I skip merrily out of the store, all smartly dressed and eager for my piano date – I mean, lesson.


	3. Another Lesson

I almost forget to run home to fetch my gun.

Big Brother gave me the rifle as a present. He tells me never to go anywhere without it.

He also told me that Austria is not only awkward at handling firearms, but also terrified of them. This would make the gun come in handy – I would never shoot him, or even fire it around him just to scare him, but seeing me with the gun might make him a little more submissive.

Unfortunately, the Austrian border patrol confiscates the gun from me. Apparently I am not licensed to possess one in this country.

Ah well. Maybe he will be compliant anyway…

"_Guten Tag Herr Edelstein_," I say while curtsying when he answers his fancy classical doorbell.

"Liechtenstein? Well, you're dressed rather, ahem, flatteringly today. I thought you had given up on piano lessons."

"Oh, no, I was simply, um, preoccupied. But from now on I promise to attend your lessons every day."

"Very well then. Come on in. You're in luck; I have just finished preparing some fine Viennese espresso."

How nice of Austria to give me all these coffees and cakes and piano lessons without expecting anything in return! And Brother goes on and on about what a cheapskate he is…

He serves me a clear glass full of coffee with whipped cream on top.

"And here is some leftover _Apfel Strudel_." Roderich presents me with a plate of the week-old pastries, which are still good, having been stored in the freezer and reheated for the enjoyment of guests.

"This is excellent coffee!" I tell him.

"It should be. I roasted and ground the beans myself."

I drink it until all of the whipped cream is gone. "I am ready to begin my lesson now, Mister Austria."

Today, Roderich begins to teach me how to read sheet music. I understand the lesson well, despite the intoxication of being in his presence. Is it his smell? The smell of what he eats and drinks and the flowers and potpourri he spends time around and… something else… his natural fragrance, I suppose, pheromones that are as ethereally delicious as everything else about him. I feel as though I am being charged by his electric field… My eyes shy from the intensity of his beauty, but at the same time are magnetically attracted back toward his direction… His voice, soft and seductive, deep but not too deep, and, I imagine, lovely to hear in song… I purposely place my hands in unsuitable positions so that I can feel his cool, soft fingers correct mine with nimble, almost fairylike twitches. He is sheer bliss to four of my senses, the only absent sense being taste, but I soon hope to correct that…

Roderich turns to a new page to quiz me. "Now I want you to play this by reading the sheet music."

It is a very simple melody, and I somehow remember the notes that he taught me. I play them wrong on purpose out of a strange desire to see what he's like when he is angry.

"No, no, NO! That is incorrect – can you not tell by how cacophonous it sounds? That was such a simple melody, how could you NOT get it correct? You were not paying attention to what I taught you, were you? You think that because I praised you on your talent during your last lesson that you are too good to pay attention, is that correct? Do you think that Mozart was remembered as one of history's greatest composers because he thought that he was too good to have to learn anything? NO! He studied hard and practiced daily and paid attention to his masters! If you are not going to pay attention properly then I will not be giving you any more piano lessons!"

He is so naggy and bitchy – and it's cute. Not like when Big Brother does it. I blush and repress a giggle, knowing that he is being serious, and I feel a hint of shame at goofing off during his lessons. My Roderich deserves better than that.

"I-I am sorry, Mister Austria. I promise that I will pay better attention."

I then play the melody perfectly – note for note, anyway.

"Your timing was off, but all of the notes were right. Shall I move on to the next lesson?"

"Actually, I think I have had it for today, Mister Austria."

Roderich sighs. "You will never improve with that kind of attitude. Beethoven would drink sixty beans' worth of coffee to keep himself up at night so he could practice and finish his compositions."

"Well, maybe that's what I need, is a short coffee break."

"All right." Roderich leaves the piano bench with me to sit on his fancy white sofa and passes me the sugar dish to sweeten the remainder of my _Kapuziner._

"Thank you, Mister Austria, for teaching me to play the piano."

"You're quite welcome."

"But I must ask, why do you do it? Why do you volunteer to teach piano to others when you get nothing out of it? Is it because you enjoy the company?"

"Well, that may be part of it…"

"What was it like being married? Do you miss having…" I dare not say _sex_, for that would be very unladylike… "intimate contact with another person?"

Roderich opens his mouth to exhale, as if to say something, but then closes it. He crosses one of his long legs gracefully over the other and stretches his similarly long and equally graceful arms out before putting them together to fold his hands. _What a body…_

"Well, that is a very personal question… but since you put it so politely, I will admit that I did indeed have intimate contact with Hungary. You might say that I also had it with Prussia, but that contact was anything but consensual."

"And…and what about Germany?"

"Actually, no." Roderich pauses to pour himself another glass of coffee, which he spoons way too much sugar into, and takes a long sip, after which he pats his lips with a handkerchief. My heart flutters. _ Such classy behavior…_

"But I wanted to."

I scoot a tiny bit closer to him. "Then why didn't you?"

"Well, he did not want it. I could have used my typical manipulative ploy against him, which involved Italy, whom I believe is his true closet lover, but being a gentleman, I respected his wishes and left him alone, without playing any dirty ploys against him."

I scoot even closer to him, and he nudges just slightly away in response.

"Are there any others?"

"Other what?"

"Former partners of yours, silly!" I bounce up from my seat and into his lap, giggling and humping his leg.

Roderich stiffens his body and feebly brushes at me with his fingers. "Too much caffeine for you. Next time, we're having tea."

"Well, are you interested in a new partner?" I press on.

"What are you getting at?"

I hug Roderich, rubbing my face into the fluffy thing on his neck.

"Well, I wouldn't mind – you know…"

"Liechtenstein… this won't work, your brother, he'd-"

I smooch him on the left cheek, right where his adorable little mole is.

"Is that all that's stopping you?"

"No, it's… you are too young to understand… you are just barely getting the hang of puberty…"

"I am more mature than I look!"

"Liechtenstein! I will not just do it with anyone! It takes a long time for me to decide whether a person is, ahem, suitable for intimate companionship with me, let alone to warm up enough to them to actually do it! Most importantly, my partners do not pick me, I pick my partners."

"Pick me!"

"No."

"How about you just lick me?"

"No."

"How about I just suck you?"

"No."

"Finger me?"

"No."

"I'll finger you."

"No."

"How about you just touch my breasts, however nonexistent they may be? Even just give me a back massage? I'm sure that your piano skills would come in handy for that…"

"Liechtenstein, this disgusting conversation is over!"

Roderich yanks me outside with as much force as he can muster out of his flaccid muscles and tosses me outside, my skirt flying up.

"Today, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and attribute your behavior to caffeine psychosis, but if you should ever behave like that again in my household I shall never give you another piano lesson!"

He slams the door hard (which isn't nearly as hard as Brother can slam it) and returns to fingering his precious piano, playing what I suppose is the Chopin song that Brother says he likes to play when he's angry.

Perhaps things would have gone differently had I been able to bring my gun with me.


	4. Pillow

I return home from what I hoped would have been a fun playdate with Roderich, disappointed but yearning more than ever for him.

Yes, he rejected me; I should feel sad because of that. Yet Big Brother taught me not to cry, and so I don't... not publicly anyway.

But why should I cry? His rejection of my plea for intimate contact only further proves that he is an excellent catch! A proper gentleman, after all, is ideally so prude in his behavior that a lady has to practically rape him to get sex from him.

An easy man is nothing more than a lewd pervert, like France or Prussia; neither one of them turns me on in the least way. The more a man plays hard to get, the more desirable he is to me.

But now the problem is getting it to happen. Roderich would have to visit Liechtenstein or Switzerland; he seldom visited Switzerland, for he would be greeted with hostile gunfire unless Brother actually asked for him to come, and to my knowing he has never visited my country, except to pass through it on train.

I wish I had a picture of him... oh wait, perhaps I do.

I sit on my sofa and take out the first volume of the World Book Encyclopedia that Brother had given me - written in English, of course, for it is American, and America, as I have witnessed at the world meetings, is remarkably ignorant of other languages - and tear through it, looking for a picture of the one country I was so enamored with...

I turn the last page, and realize that I had not gotten to the Au's. _Sch_- I take out the next volume.

Austria is illustrated with beautiful pictures of his architecture, valleys and alps - darn it I want the man! Then I see a few pictures of him. One of him, a painting, playing the violin... _dreamy_... and a photograph of him reading a book..._ *sighs*... how intellectual..._

He's so beautiful that I can hardly stand it! He's so photogenic, his face practically _sparkles_ for the camera; so photogenic the pictures actually _do_ do him justice...

I breathe hoarsely with want, having been knocked out of my breath by his sheer beauty. I mourn that I do not have any classical music to play, or I would to heighten the moment. I must make do with the tunes of his that I remember and play in my head.

I stare at the pictures and allow his beauty to melt over me in earth-jerking spasms. I kneel and fall to my chest, my arms folded under and stretched down to my lower regions. I tap my fingers like a piano, in the same order as I did to play the melodies that Roderich taught me.

The titillating sensation causes me to crave for it to be harder, so I ball my hands up and rub with more pressure. I flex my rear up and down, bouncing against the softness of the sofa cushions. I grab the couch pillow in front of me and mount it, banging it harder and faster each time, while looking at him... thinking of him... and of the beautiful music he plays...

I hear sharp knocking at the door. I jerk up, my heart pounding burning blood through my body, thanking the Lord that I had the curtains shut.

I straighten my dress and the couch pillows and remove my glasses in case the visitor happens to be Big Brother (as it usually is). I shut the encyclopedia and put it away.

I answer the door and it is indeed my brother.

"Good afternoon, sister. I-I just wanted to check in on you..."

I sigh. "Come in, Brother..."

Big Brother sits on the couch next to me, close to where I had been banging on seconds ago, I realize with a shudder, puts his gun to the side and samples some chocolate from my dish. "This is not an easy subject to discuss with you... now, sister, you do realize that you are becoming a woman now, right?"

I am not comfortable with where this conversation seems to be heading. "Yes, I have been a woman for quite some time now, Big Brother."

"And at your age, you start to get... urges... I am not sure what it is like for females, but I assume that it's somewhat similar for us males... and having been a young man before... just think about what you're doing, okay?"

"Ok... why do you all of a sudden want to do the talk with me?"

"I-" Big Brother grits his teeth and furiously wolfs down another Lindor truffle.

"I... I believe that when the time comes that you are ready for a partnership, I want it to be with a good man, a real man. A real man who will fight for you, defend you, not a cowardly pussy like that Austria. When Roderich's country is threatened, he won't stand up and fight for it, he would rather just sit around and eat cake and play piano all day. He will just let them take it. That is why Silesia no longer belongs to him, and also why he is no longer a great and powerful empire."

I sigh and hug Big Brother. He is a good man, and very comforting to hug, but I could never feel the same way for him that I feel for Roderich. He is my brother, after all.

"Big Brother, I know a good man when I see one. And just because a man is sensitive and in touch with his feminine side, and does not carry a gun around all the time, does not mean that he is not a real man."

Brother gasps. I blush. Have I said too much?

"I just mean... a man who will love you. Oh, and by the way, I'm hosting this year's World Bridge Championship, and the firsts round begins this evening. I will be playing this evening, and so, unfortunately, will be Austria."

I perk up at the mention of this. _An opportunity!_ I resist the irresisitible urge to squee and ask, "Brother, is it all right if I watch?"

"Sure. It might educate you on some of Austria's ways."

He stops as he begins to exit the door.

"L-" He sighs. I fidget slightly at his hesitance to leave.

He finally leaves. As soon as I am sure that he is gone for good, I drop all composure and SQUEE. I get the encyclopedia back out and get busy again on that pillow.


	5. Bridge

I am at Big Brother's house, still dressed in my blue Austria dress but with the glasses in my pocket, reading Brother's own Encyclopedia (second volume of course), tapping my foot anxiously for Roderich to arrive, if only so I can stare at him while he plays bridge against Big Brother, America and Germany.

"I am so gonna whup your European asses!" America shouts as he arrives with a McDonald's bag. "Your McDonald's isn't even as good as ours!"

"At least we use beef that hasn't been tainted with pesticides or growth hormones," Big Brother grunts.

"Well, I'll admit, this McZuri is pretty good." America gets sauce all over his blackhead-covered face while Brother shakes his head. Big Brother scolds me and wipes my face down hard for lesser dining etiquette infractions than America is committing.

Then Germany arrives. He is a good man, tall, strong, muscly, strict but in a militaristic rather than an aristocratic way - not my type at all. Nor is America with his poor manners and overall ignorance and haughtiness toward European cultures. How much longer before Austria arrives? I sip down my hot chocolate to distract me.

"Big Brother, may I have more hot chocolate please? This time with coffee in it?"

"Sure - wait a minute, since when do you drink coffee?"

"I, uh, North Italy offered me some. I thought it tasted good with chocolate in it..."

"Well I do have some instant coffee that I bought when it was on sale."

I sigh. Big Brother is such a bargain whore. He does not even like coffee, but he will buy almost anything if it happens to be on sale. One time he bought a package of diapers when they were sold at a 25 percent discount; he rationalized this purchase by giving the diapers to me and telling me to use them during that time of month. I spared him the upsetting fact that panty liners are cheaper than diapers even when the diapers are on sale.

When Big Brother gets back to me with the chocolate coffee, I taste it and, in disappointment, realize how much better Roderich's fresh ground espresso was.

"Crossing the fine line between frugal and stingy again, Vash?"

MY RODERICH! He has come at last! Luckily Big Brother is too busy glaring at him to notice how my eyes lit up at the sound of his voice.

"How so, Austria?"

"The coffee. Nescafe crystallized instant variety, is it not?"

"Wha-how can you tell?"

"I can tell from the moment I smell it." Roderich's nose wrinkles at the scent of the cheap coffee. "Luckily I thought to bring a Thermos full of what I brewed this morning. Anybody care for a_ Schwarzer_?"

"I could go for one," said Germany.

"Me too!" shouted America. "Wait, what is a _Schwarzer_?"

"To put it bluntly, coffee," said Roderich.

"COFFEE! I love coffee! Can't start the day without it! Is it like the Viennese Chocolate Cafe International Drink Mix that I drink at home?"

Roderich sighs. "Yes, only much better."

Oh, Roderich. Always so accommodating. He fixes a cup each for Germany, America, himself and me. It is already sugary and I can also taste vanilla, cinnamon and cloves in it.

They cut the cards to determine who gets paired with whom, Big Brother praying that he doesn't get paired with Austria. He and America both get the lowest cut cards, so he gets paired with America instead.

I watch Roderich's back as the game begins, anxious for an excuse to switch to a seat in the room on the other side of the table. I walk past the table, brushing close enough to Austria to smell the delicious clove essence on his breath mixed with his personal scent, and announce that I am going to the bathroom. Nobody seems to have heard me, so I disappear to the bathroom for a minute and come back out to sit in the sofa that has a face view of Austria.

Oh, he looks so lovely as he passes cards about with his graceful fingers, as he furrows his face in concentration; even the moments when his eyes are glazed over in boredom as if he'd much rather be playing piano...

The game seems to take HOURS to get over with. It's even worse than when Big Brother goes bowling with the other countries and takes me along. I was no good at bowling so I lost interest and watched as America whipped the other countries (as he does at many sports, and never lets them hear the end of it) and I decided not to go to one of those tournaments again.

And then the game finally ended - I think. Judging by the politely triumphant expression on my beloved's face, I think I know which pair won.

Big Brother knocks his chair over getting up from it. "Not fair! I got paired with America!"

"Oh, please, Germany and I outscored you by a margin of over 1000 points, you cannot blame it all on America."

Big Brother gritted his teeth, clenching his gun. "Should've known you'd go for the Vienna coup..."

Big Brother turned around to see me sitting with good posture on the couch, my hands folded innocuously between my legs.

"See what that lousy son of a bitch cheater did? He paired me with that _dummkopf_ America!"

"I thought you were paired with him by chance."

Roderich chuckles. "It appears that your sister is more observant than you expected."

"ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR?"

"Well, if exploiting her ignorance of the rules of contract bridge to convince her that I have cheated when I have not is what you intended, then yes, I am calling you a liar."

Big Brother seethes, his hands becoming sweaty from squeezing his gun so tightly.

Roderich reaches into his breast pocket to pull out a folded-up train schedule and a pocketwatch (an old fashioned gold pocketwatch! HOW CLASSY! *swoons*).

"Well, it appears that the last train home is leaving soon - fifteen minutes, to be precise. I'd better get going unless I want to be stuck here all night."

_Stuck here all night! _ I feel like a bolt of happiness lightning has stricken me! Only problem was stalling him for long enough to make him miss his train...

Oh, how to do that, how to do that...

I follow Austria out to the Geneva train station. After all, I need to take the train home too. As I sit in the train I check my own train schedule and find that there are only five minutes to board the train to Vienna after getting off at the train in Vaduz.

I run out of the train before Roderich does, and I wait while the other passengers get off until I see him. I then run and trip - on purpose - in front of him.

"Liechtenstein! Are you all right?"

Such a gentleman! He cares if I'm all right!

"I... I... dun... noooo..." I draw it out, the longer the better, that way more time wasted! And, of course, the more time spent in HIS arms!

"Did you hit your head?"

I nod feebly, and then I take this perfectly excusable opportunity to hug him, rubbing my hands over his fine silken fabric.

"I... waaa-aaant... C... Coffffffeeeeeeee..."

"Well, I am sorry, but I am out of coffee."

"Where is your Thermos?"

"It's..." While Roderich feels himself through his pockets and fumbles around for his Thermos, I take his train ticket and hide it in my shoe.

"_Schei_ - I mean, oh dear, it appears that I have forgotten it."

"Oh well. I'm sure Big Brother will return it to you."

I smirk as Roderich waits in line to board the train to Vienna and gasps when he finds that his ticket is missing.

"Liechtenstein! Have you seen my ticket?"

"Your... whaaaat?" I continue to pretend that I have hit my head too hard.

"It's time to leave now," the train conductor says.

"But WAIT! Just give me one more minute to find my ticket..."

The train takes off, leaving Roderich to sit on a bench with hung head. I feel a little bad about doing this to him. But sad Austria is too irresistibly cute for me to care much.

"Well, it looks like I am stuck here for the night. I had better find a hotel to check into..."

"That's OK. You can stay over at my place," I say innocently, trying to retain a little of my affected concussion wooziness.

"Oh, no thank you, I really couldn't impose." Austria rubs my head in an affectionate, petting-type gesture. Sparks fly and tingles spasm wherever his skin contacts mine.

"Oh, but I insist!" I pull my gun just slightly out from behind my back, touching the trigger just hard enough to make an audible click for him to hear.

"Is... t-that a gun?" Roderich asks, pulling at his cravat while he tries to appear unflustered.

"Why, yes. Everybody around here has a gun. Would you please stay over at my house? PLEASE? It would save you more money than checking into a hotel."

"W-Well, all right then," Roderich says. He continues to play with his cravat, strangling the fabric with sweaty fingers, and then flattens it and tugs urgently at it to make it look like he was only straightening it. "But only because it's the more frugal option."

YAY FRUGALITY!

...And big scary guns, too.


	6. SMOOCH

Roderich. At my house. I could die.

Seeing him in the light of the candles I have lit on the table, dressed, as usual, in an exquisite sapphire blue jacket with the fluffy cravat at his neck and the well-polished, sparkly glasses perched on his beautifully-shaped Roman nose, he looks so pristine, so perfect, like a fancily wrapped Christmas present that I cannot wait to tear open.

"So, _Herr_ Edelstein, would you care for some tea?"

"Um, well, I-I guess I wouldn't mind having a cup."

I put a pair of chamomile teabags into his cup as the water heats in the kettle, and a pair of black breakfast tea bags in mind. That way I get a bit of caffeine while he gets a bit of sleepy. I place his tea cup to the right of my tea cup on the table.

"Have as much honey as you like," I tell him as I set a jar of orange blossom honey with a chunk of waxy honeycomb in it on the table. He spoons at least twice as much into his tea as I spoon into mine.

Roderich drinks his tea daintily while I stare, blushing, at his cute beauty mark.

"So, Roderich, what was it like when Prussia raped you?"

"Brutal." Roderich grimaced as he hanky-patted his luscious lips. "Do you by any chance have some snacks to go with this tea?"

Freeloading again. How adorable. He can freeload off of me as much as he likes!

"Oh, these will go great with tea!" I bring out the tin of _Tirggel_ biscuits that Big Brother gave me for Christmas.

Roderich stares at the images on the cookies before dipping them in his tea and taking a bite. "You are right. An excellent accompaniment to tea."

"So, Roderich, tell me more about your close encounter with Prussia."

"Let's not get into that..."

"Was it right after he defeated you in battle?"

"Yup. I lay wasted on the ground, and... and... he invaded my vital regions."

Vital regions! What an interesting, and suggestive, thought not necessarily so, term!

I get out of my seat to stand over him, putting my crotch up against his thigh and rubbing it.

"He just couldn't resist you, could he? So beautiful, and so easy to take..." I imagine him lying torn and tattered on the battlefield, with matted hair and dirty scrapes oozing forth with blood, his clothes ripped in tangles around his chest and crotch. I become wet at this sexy and vulnerable visual. No wonder Prussia couldn't resist!

Roderich grimaces and pushes his teacup and unfinished _Tirggel_ away. "I think I just lost my appetite."

"Great! I-I mean, good. So you're ready for bed now?"

Roderich pushed his glasses up and tugged at his collar - what adorable gestures! "I-I-I'm afraid not, no, I'd rather engage in some stimulating conversation right now. But can we pick some other topic, if you don't mind?"

"Okay. How about guns?"

I pull out my rifle and lay it on the table. Roderich stares at it with a wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed espression that screams SMOOCH ME.

"See how shiny it is? That's because I polish it every day. Would you like to polish it?"

"N-no thank..." Roderich yawns, this time without trying to stifle it, as he had been doing since he started drinking the chamomile tea. "...you, come to think of it, I am rather sleepy right now... would you care to set me up with a blanket and a pillow on the couch?"

"You're my guest, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch! You are going to have my bed!"

"B-but you won't be sleeping in it with me, will you?"

"...No. I won't be sleeping in it tonight at all."

"S-splendid. Would you care to show me to your room, if you please?"

"Sure. But first..."

I leap into Roderich's arms, catching him by the shoulders and wrapping my legs around his chest. I push and pull myself against his chest to feel the bang of HIM against my own vital regions.

"May I please have a good night kiss?"

"Will you cease this unwarranted frotteurism if I do?"

"Sure, sure."

Roderich tenderly wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and looks into my eyes. Oh, his eye contact causes fireworks to buzz through my veins! Behind the candlelit glare of his perfectly clear and polished spectacles, I am captivated by his enchanting, jewellike purple irises, which sparkle more lucidly than the glasses lenses themselves. The clear honesty in his eyes reflect on his soul - passionate, wise, noble, in all ways magnificent. He closes them, and I do likewise.

His lips are soft and unchapped, as though he balms them everyday, and they carry his essence on his sweet breath, blended with the excitement of coffee, the cheery brightness of vanilla, the passion of chocolate, and, most recently, the delight of honey and the floral calmness of chamomile and tea. The lips move around slowly in a chivalrous manner, practiced and perfected, pleasuring yet undemanding, being moist and velvety enough without exposing any saliva from either his or my mouth. The lips then yield slowly, as if to give mine a turn to take over.

I grab him by the back of the neck and thrust his head into mine, smashing our lips together as close as comfortably possible, until my tongue slips through into his mouth and I taste even more of the flavorings of the goodies that he eats, and I become familiar with his personal essence on a deeper level. I thrust and purse my lips back and forth, as though we are having lip sex and I'm the dominant one. I finished with a long, sucking sort of kiss, inhaling every last bit of his signature odor that I can while until I feel like I am on the verge of suffocating; then I let go with a somewhat loud and wet smacking sound.

Roderich polishes his fogged glasses with his handkerchief as he tries to catch his breath. "Ha... Have you had quite enough, young lady?"

"Yes, thank you. Good night."

I lead him to my bedroom, where he crouches under my lacy lilac canopy and peels back my frilly lavender covers before he realizes that he's short a pair of pajamas.

"I am sorry, but I don't have a pair of pajamas in your size."

"Well, then, please leave me in my privacy..."

"Oh no, it is simply immodest and inappropriate to sleep in the nude in a guest's house," I say to him. "You will just have to sleep in your clothing." I do, after all, have sort of a fetish for his clothing.

"All right..." I watch as Roderich slips into my own bed, shoes and all. Ever the gentleman. I may never wash these sheets again!

No matter how soiled they may become later.

"Pleasant dreams, Mister Edelstein." I tweak his curl and kiss him directly on his beauty mole. His jaw stiffens and his lips twitch when my lips touch the mole, and I swear that I hear a soft whisper of a moan escape through his breath.

I head back to the kitchen. The recipe for a perfect night in the vital regions of Austria is not QUITE finished yet!


	7. Exploring the Vital Regions

I hum to one of Roderich's piano tunes as I prepare chocolate fondue. Excited, so excited...

My dirty mind conceives of things to do with the chocolate that would have repulsed me only a week ago. I think of Roderich, sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face, too beautiful to touch, yet also too beautiful not to. He would be very unhappy if I were to molest him.

But his reaction to it... would be _sooo_ beautiful to watch. I bet he is just ADORABLE when he is upset, trying to keep his gentlemanly composure while being feebly assertive at the same time...

Maybe he'll enjoy it. No, I don't want him to enjoy it. Gentlemen do NOT enjoy being molested. If he were to enjoy it, the chaste, saintly image I have of him in my head would be shattered.

I carry the fondue dish into my bedroom, turning the light on just enough so I can see his face. _Gott_, I cannot exaggerate how drop-dead gorgeous he is!

Some men are ruggedly handsome, some men are cute, but Roderich's dashing good looks, which fully complement his mind, attitude, and the way he carries himself, can only be described as _beautiful_. Such beauty is often seen in women, but the odd man that possesses it is at least ten times as beautiful. The glasses have been placed on the nightstand - oh, I simply cannot have that, him not wearing the one accessory that can make him more beautiful! I place the specs back on his face.

I pour a ladleful of chocolate fondue over his face. Is it strange that he still looks elegant even with his face smeared with muddy brown goo, his glasses fogged and smeared with it? He looks like a chief commander fallen nobly on the battlefield, muddied by a foe that has tried to disgrace him. Shame on them!

I then remember that the mud on his face is melted _Lindor._ I bring my face over to his lips and open my mouth to take a big lick off of them.

I lick his face everywhere like a puppy dog. His skin feels baby smooth and stubble free on my tongue, as though he waxed it, or has shaved it very close and very recently, or has hair so fine it leaves no noticeable stubble, or as though he never needed to shave it at all. And yet the flavor on the skin beneath the chocolate is so masculine - is it the memory of some sort of fine cologne that he wears, or is it his own unique flavor? It carries just a touch of testosterone, which is good - judging by its effects on men, testosterone is like salt - a little bit of it is necessary, but too much is unpleasant, and the preferred amount depends on the particular tastes of the person in question. For me, just a hint is fine, thank you.

At last, I lick the glasses clean. After I do so I become entranced by the violet jewels behind them that sparkle at me. He just woke up... now the fun can begin!

"Liechtenstein, what are you doing?" He sounds tired, but not groggy. Good, because it would be unbecoming of him to sound as though he were half passed out.

"Cleaning your face. I spilled chocolate all over it."

"Choco-what?" Roderich pushes himself upright and turns the light up so he can inspect his clothing for stains.

I push him down and, although he is stronger, he complies. I turn the light lower and put my hands on the brass buttons on his jacket.

"What are you doing?" he asks as I unbutton him while he swats his butterflylike hands at me.

"I want to see what you look like underneath!"

The open jacket reveals a prim white button shirt that has been neatly ironed and tucked in. I open the buttons to find an undershirt that is just as clean and white - how scrumptious! This man has more layers than a birthday cake! I fall nose first onto his chest and inhale it. It smells of fresh linen, edelweiss-scented fabric softener and or detergent, coffee beans, vanilla extract, and, of course, _him. _

I sniff the outer shirt just to compare its scent to the undershirt - crisper, less strongly of him and more strongly of the other scents. I pull that and his undershirt out from the pants, which takes some work - does he know how to tuck tightly! - and lift the undershirt to see what his chest looks like.

Just the faintest curve of muscle ripples over where a stronger man's abs would be, coated with skin so pale it took on a yellowish hue, rather than the pinkish hue of the skin of his that regularly sees daylight. Other women might be repulsed, but I favored the delicate look. I press my hands into his tummy; it has just the slightest bit of fat layering beneath the skin to lend softness. The chest hair is short, sparse, soft, and, surprisingly, pale. Roderich shivers as I play with the silky hairs, each of them curled like a miniature Mariazell.

"I... haven't waxed in a while..." he says, his voice tight with shame.

"It's OK." Even his shame is just so endearing. I feel the lean hardness of his ribs and pectorals tightening beneath the tender flab as I add a drop of chocolate to each of his nipples, even more so after I begin to suck on one of them like a baby sucks from its mother. Like chocolate milk from a baby bottle. His soft little nipples, smaller even than his mole, become pert at the touch of my tongue and lips.

I stand up and look at him. Jacket undone, shirt unbuttoned, undershirt all but removed, everything wrinkled, sticky traces of muck on his face, he looks sort of... wartorn. In an innocent, helpless sort of way. How sexy.

His facial expression looks dazed, though half asleep, perhaps dismissing this turn events as the going-ons of a strange dream of his. I press him down gently to the pillow and I grab his arm and bring it to the bedpost, hopeful that he is unaware of what I am up to with this.

He grabs hold of the bedpost while I unfasten his cuff links, wrap the open sleeves around the bedpost, and link them around the bedpost. That should keep him still for a while, should he become more awakened. I go to the other side of the bed and do the same to his other sleeve.

Yes, he will need to be fastened tight for the final destination in my journey through his vital regions. I stand still and ask myself, _am I ready for this?_

I swoon in the memory of his scent, the feel of his skin, the way it complemented the flavor of chocolate. Why, his body essence could be used as a secret ingredient that would make for EXCELLENT chocolate, perhaps the best in all of Europe! The memories of these sensations tingle through my body, every nerve of which screams, _Yes! Yes, I want this! YES!_

His pants are tight, VERY tight. It would not be proper for them to be removed. He would never remove them, except to use the restroom or change into nightclothes or take a shower.

No. A gentleman has to have his pants RIPPED OFF.

Just as I imagine Prussia might have done, out on the battlefield. How sweet would it be for him to be all helplessly torn up!

He can always patch them back up. Big Brother says he is a good enough seamstress to make his underwear last centuries.

Good think I brought another one of Brother's gifts to me - a Swiss army knife.


	8. WARNING: SMUT!

Austria groans as I carefully cut away his pants.

He is wearing boxers with cartoon violins on them. How cute. I cut those away too.

And then I see his thing. It is white, smooth except for a small mole on it like the one on his face, and... well I wouldn't know if it's large or small compared to those of other men. From what I read about the anatomy of the reproductive system, it needs to be hard in order to do anything. I guess I could make it hard by sucking on it. I feel a little nervous about putting it in my mouth, but excited at the same time. I immediately figure out how to sweeten the deal.

I pour some of my chocolate fondue over it. There, now it ought to be absolutely delicious.

"I... I normally have erectile dysfunction, you know..."

"Which is why I added an aphrodisiac to your tea, just in case." Glad I had thought of that.

I pick it up - it feels strange, like picking up a really soft sausage - and take a deep breath before putting it in my mouth.

Oh Gott... it tastes absolutely delicious. I expected it to taste like piss but it doesn't; it tastes like him, only more strongly so, and the flavor of him is perfectly complemented by the flavor of the chocolate. Roderich grits his teeth and restrains his moans, as though trying not to get hard. He pulls his arms at the bedposts and then realizes that they have been cuffed. He twists his hands around and fumbles with the sleeves, trying to uncuff them; luckily, he is half asleep, for I know that he would be able to uncuff them with ease if he were more conscious, given how long and dexterous his nimble pianist fingers are.

I suck it and lick it like an ice cream pop until it grows and feels hard like a dried-out sausage.

So now is time for penetration, I guess. However, I do not feel quite ready for it. From what I have read about female anatomy, a woman usually desires some foreplay before penetration. Foreplay, I guess, would be Roderich doing to me what I had been doing to him...

I pull my panties down and put chocolate over my genitals. I climb onto the bed and crouch over Roderich's face.

"Lick, please?"

Roderich softly grumbles something about not having a choice in the matter and puts his lips to me. He sucks and licks the same way he did when kissing me. It feels so WONDERFUL! I giggle like I'm being tickled. Oh if Big Brother saw me having this much fun he would die... or shoot Roderich.

Then I feel like I've had enough of the licking, but I still want penetration - in fact, the licking has made me CRAVE it. Like mad.

I crawl back down to his penis, which is still hard. As I push myself up over it, Roderich whispers, "I have a condom in my jacket pocket somewhere..."

"A condom? Why would you carry a condom around everywhere?"

"In case I get raped... to offer to my attacker so we can both have protection..."

"Both? What would the other guy need to be protected from?"

"...Prussia gave me chlamydia when he raped me..."

"But that was several years ago, and you were treated for it, right?"

"...yes..." Roderich had apparently been hoping I would think that he still had chlamydia and be turned off, but luckily I knew more about venereal diseases than he thought I did.

"Thanks for reminding me, Roderich. How irresponsible of me to forget protection."

I dig through his pockets until I find the condom. It's coffee flavored. Nice.

I stretch it open and it keeps on unraveling and unraveling and getting wider and wider... By the time I put it on, it is way too baggy. I roll it up until it's not baggy anymore.

I then suck on it to enjoy the coffee flavor.

"OK, ready?"

Roderich grunts in resignation.

"OK, here I come!"

I hold it right to the opening to my vagina and fall down onto it.

"OWWWWWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW!"

This pain must be the tearing of my hymen. This means I am officially not a virgin anymore. I bounce up and down in place until the pain begins to disappear and become overpowered by the pleasure.

"HAHAHA! THIS IS FUN!" I bounce up and down on Roderich while he moans, trying to sound like he's in pain even though I know he must be enjoying it. What a gentleman.

While Roderich grunts and moans quietly, I yelp and moan loudly. I bounce up and down on him like a horsie. I feel it rubbing around and around inside me, and it makes me get all happy and wet inside.

This must be what an orgasm is. Roderich, on the other hand, seems to be trying his hardest not to have one. Oh well. The longer it takes for him to orgasm, or "cum" as some call it, the longer I get to have fun on him.

Roderich's erection seems to be lasting for a really long time. Wow. I thought he would try to just cum as soon as he could just to get it over with. I guess he really IS secretly enjoying it!

Then I feel it. I feel the tension in it. I feel the condom swell with the semen inside - HAHA that feels good! - and then the condom bursts. Heh, I guess I didn't apply it properly. But the burst feels amazing. And then his thing shrinks and goes soft...

I hear knocking on the door. "Liechtenstein?"

I gasp. BIG BROTHER!

How could he be here? I check the clock and I see that it's morning already. Big Brother must have caught the very first train that morning!

I had better clean up, and fast!


	9. Visitor

I quickly put on a fresh pair of panties and a nightgown, and wipe my sticky legs off with an unsullied portion of my bedsheet. I answer the door, carrying my gun with me, as Brother had taugh me never to answer the door without my rifle with me.

"H-hi, Big Brother. Why are you here so early?"

"Well, after Austria left I realized that he forgot his Thermos. I called him, but he did not answer, so I decided to take the early train to return it to him, and since the train in Vienna does not come for..." he checks his Rolex. "another hour and forty-five minutes, I thought I would pay you a visit."

"C-come right in," I tell him. I faintly hear Roderich groaning in the bedroom.

I place the gun down and "accidentally" press the trigger. A shot from it fires into the couch pillow that I had once used as a substitute for the real thing.

"LIECHTENSTEIN! WHAT HAVE I TAUGHT YOU ABOUT GUN SAFETY?"

"S-sorry, Big Brother... I'm just tired, that's all..."

"You were up all night thanks to that damned Roderich, weren't you?"

I gasp. "Um, n-no, it has nothing to d-do with h-h-him..."

"That coffee he gave you."

I sigh in relief. "Oh. That. Well that must be why..."

Big Brother eyes my kitchen. "Liechtenstein... Your kitchen is a mess! I suppose you were having a chocolate party all night because you couldn't sleep?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I had." I giggle. It was no lie.

Brother starts wiping the counter off with a towel. "Well you are going to clean it up. Come here, let me show you..."

"Big Brother, I know how to clean a kitchen. I am normally very tidy..."

Big brother doesn't listen. He shows me the cleaner, sprays it, puts a washcloth into my hand and rubs it roughly over the chocolately countertop.

"Big Brother, don't you have to take the train to Vienna soon?"

"Not yet, although now that you mention it, I might as well call Austria to see if he's up."

Big Brother goes to my phone and dials his number. He stands and listens, until the beeping noise goes off.

Big Brother slams the phone down. "Still asleep. You'd think the damned caffeine addict would be up all night and at the crack of dawn..."

"He's probably used to the coffee," I tell him.

"Well, I don't want YOU getting used to it, OK? Otherwise you will need it just to get up in the morning. You don't want to become caffeine dependent, do you?"

"No, Big Brother..."

"Now we are going to wash the dishes." Big Brother returns to the kitchen and, to his surprise, finds that there are no dishes in the sink except for a couple of tea cups.

"Where is the dirty fondue bowl?"

"I, uh, washed it and put it away already..."

"But you didn't clean the rest of the kitchen, or these tea cups? Why did you use two tea cups anyway? Haven't I taught you, using fewer dishes uses less water, and using less water saves more money!"

"Yes, Big Brother. I, uh, lost focus..."

"Well, caffeine would do that to you. Makes you all ADHD. You should have seen Roderich when he first got hooked on it. Turkey left a sack of coffee beans behind after he invaded, and Austria took it and discovered the secret of coffee, and he came up with fancy recipes for it of course, and opened up a bunch of coffee shops, and for the first few weeks he was always going to the bathroom during world meetings, and he was up ALL NIGHT playing music and having balls every night, and all of us other countries were tired out! He neglected a lot of his duties too, until he got used to it... and during World War II, when coffee was in short supply and he had to drink tea instead, he was SOOO TIRED all the time that he had Germany do everything for him, and he had to drink tea all day just to get the same level of caffeine, and all that tea made him have to use the bathroom like crazy! Roderich is an ADDICT. DON'T YOU BECOME AN ADDICT."

"Y-yes, Big Brother."

"Now get the bowl out. I brought some Gruyere and Emmentaler over to make some fondue."

"You bought the expensive cheese?"

"Well, I decided that, since I am now so wealthy that I do not have to make the cheese and sell it to others to stay afloat, that I could try some of the higher-grade cheeses for a change... but don't get used to it! And don't you become addicted to spending either..."

Big Brother opened the cabinets under the sink. "Where did you put the fondue bowl?"

The fondue bowl is still in my bedroom, with _Roderich._

"I, uh, I forgot... I must have been too jittery from the caffeine, and put it in the wrong place by accident... you don't really have time to make fondue anyway, shouldn't you be leaving to catch the first train back to Vienna?"

"I don't mind waiting for the next train. Roderich and his damn coffee Thermos can wait."

"Actually, I would like to take the next train home, thank you very much."

I gasp. Roderich steps out in the hallway, elegant even in wrinkled clothes that he had patched and repaired after how savagely I had ripped them. I am awestruck... how had he managed to undo his cuff links AND sew his pants back together so fast?

"AUSTRIA!" Big Brother pulls his gun out and grits his teeth. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Roderich coolly hides his fear in the face of Brother's gun - how debonair of him - and answers, in a similarly debonair fashion, "Also awaiting the arrival of the next train, since it appears that I have missed the last train home last night."

Brother stares down at his clothing. "You are a mess. How abnormal for you."

"Indeed, for I have also suffered quite an, ahem, accident since missing my train's departure. By the way, the fondue bowl that you are seeking is in the bedroom."

Grrr... if I didn't love Roderich so much, I would hate him! He grabs the Thermos.

"By the way, _danke_ for returning my Thermos."

As Roderich heads for the door, Big Brother turns and clicks his gun to him. "Not so fast!"

Roderich stops as Big Brother heads toward my room.

"Oh, that's where I left it!" I say as I beat him to my room. "Silly me, how could I forget?"

"What were you doing with chocolate fondue in your room?"

"Um, I forget that part..."

Roderich had not tidied up the mess I had made of the bed, as I had desperately hoped he would...

Big Brother gapes in horror at the sight. The sheets are messier than I ever leave them on even my wildest nights alone, and they are stained with chocolate and cum, and they carry a distinctly male - and delicious - odor, as Brother is undoubtedly aware of as he leans his nose over to sniff.

"RODERICH! I'M GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH!"

I run ahead of him, my heart flying faster than it did on my first caffeine high.

He aims the gun at the still-poker-faced Roderich, and shoots.

"NOOOO!" I dart in front of my beloved, but it's too late. Big Brother has already fired the shot.


	10. Reparations

Roderich shoves me down just before the bullet can hit me and grunts, almost falling on top of me.

"LIECHTENSTEIN! Are you all right?"

Big Brother pulls me out from underneath Roderich, who had been in a sexy crouching injured position.

"I'm fine, Big Brother." I push out of his arms and run over to see what's wrong with Roderich.

A dark burn mark on on his jacket on his left shoulder shows where the bullet swiped into him. The bullet had fallen to the floor rather than lodging itself in Roderich's flesh, but the wound still appears to be rather deep. A dark brown stain begins to crawl outward from the bullet hole.

I immediately rush to find the first-aid kit. Big Brother had also taught me how to dress wounds, especially gun wounds. Brother clenches his fists as I remove his jacket and shirts - AGAIN, to my delight - for the purpose of cleaning and bandaging the wound this time.

Roderich stifles his moans of pain. Even Big Brother cannot remain this quiet when injured.

_What a man. _

"Big Brother, look what you did. How could you do this to Austria, of all people?"

"How couldn't I? After he took advantage of you-"

"He did NOT take advantage of me! I took advantage of him! I got him stranded at this principality so that he would have to stay here for the night. I cuff-linked him to my bed so he couldn't escape. I ripped his clothes off to play with him. I poured chocolate all over him... and..."

I begin to tear up, thinking about what a rotten and naughty girl I had been. Roderich deserves better than this.

He took a _bullet_ for me.

"Big Brother... he's just so... BEAUTIFUL, from the inside out! He _saved_ me, didn't you catch that?"

"It's nothing any gentleman wouldn't do for any lady," Roderich says, wincing slightly in his incompletely treated pain.

"Why do you always have to be at odds against him all the time? He clearly LOVES you!"

"Um, well, love is a strong word, but I do appreciate all you have done to help me and my people out," Roderich says, his eyes looking especially sparkly - or maybe that's because he's beginning to tear up in pain.

"Yeah, well, what have you done to help me in turn?" Big brother crosses his arms and turns his back on him.

"Well, it appears that, thanks to me, your sister is unharmed on account of a grave error of yours."

"Which would have been all YOUR fault for seducing her in the first place!"

"Well, I could not help winning her heart, I did everything I could to discourage such behavior of hers..."

"Well you obviously didn't try hard enough, you pussy!"

I hold my hand out to hold my brother back from putting his hands on Roderich, whom I press down so he doesn't further injure himself out of trying to hold off my brother.

"Listen, Big Brother. What's past is past. I am not a little girl anymore, and I am free to make my own decisions with regards to matters of the heart, and nothing that I do can be blamed on him or anyone else. My sweet Roderich clearly admires you, as you have done so much to help him out over the years, and the best way for him to pay you back is for him to be your friend, but that cannot happen unless you allow it. So what do you say?"

I know the look on Big Brother's face as he stares down. His cold banker's mind is calculating all the dues that Roderich owes him and weighing them against all of the times that the Austrian had treated us to a nice meal or such. I sigh. If only he wouldn't think of everything in terms of bank balances and such...

"Well, I guess you have more or less paid off all of your dues with all of those free lunches, and, well, you did pledge neutrality... now, as long as you don't join any stupid new group that the other countries come up with..."

Big Brother pushes me aside and takes the bandages. "Now, HERE is how you dress a bullet wound..."

After Roderich is all fixed up, Big Brother thumbs through his wallet and says, "So... how about I treat you to a nice coffee?"

"But Big Brother, you hate coffee!"

Roderich whispers to me. "Just between you and me, he likes it nearly as much as I do."

"And afterwards I can treat you to a pleasant evening at my place?" Roderich says to Big Brother.

"Hmm... I'm not one much for fancy music and stuff..." but he catches Roderich's wink and agrees.

It's nice to see Big Brother and my lovely Roderich cooperating for once!

Still, I burn and swoon in Roderich's sparkling presence...


	11. Fluffy Chapter of Fluff

So, for the first time since I had Roderich at my house, I come to visit Roderich at his house. I am wearing my favorite pink dress rather than the one I got that looks like his jacket, and I am not wearing glasses.

Shyly, I peek through the window, which, as always, is never blinded - does he forget to draw the curtains, or is he out of sheer vanity allowing voyeurs to watch him? Or maybe he just likes the way the sun gleams across the room...

He is playing a very calm Chopin melody, not the angry nocturne he played at the end of my last visit here.

I blush and shy away from the window. I do not deserve to be in his presence. Still, I must apologize...

I reach my finger toward the doorbell, shakily, press it, and withdraw quickly, staring down at my skirt.

Roderich answers the door, and I immediately feel the rush of his presence, his wonderful odor already in the air upon my first, gasping breath.

"G-G-Guten Tag, H-H-Herr Austria..."

"Frau Liechtenstein?"

Roderich takes a step back, though not as though he is in fear that I might jump out at him. I remain where I am, balling up a bit of my skirt in my hand.

"I-I-I c-c-c-came to..." I swallow and take a shallow breath. "Apologize."

"Well, then..." Roderich quietly clears his throat and flattens out his cravat.

I take a heaving breath, guiltily reveling in his scent, and let it out in a heaving sigh. "And to thank you. For saving me from my own brother for my own careless actions... how is your arm by the way?"

It has been a week since the gunfire incident. "Well, it still aches a bit, especially while playing the violin, but it functions perfectly fine for playing piano, danke for asking. As I am sure you could tell already."

I blush further at the realization that he was fully aware of my voyeurism. I then realize that I never did get to watch him play the violin.

"W-well, I was just about to fix myself a caffe Viennese, would you care for one as well?"

I perk up and brush my skirt with my hands, which have already made it somewhat sweaty from gripping it so hard. "S-sure..."

"And I also have some leftover Sachertorte that I made last night, if you would care for a piece..."

A piece of Austria's national dessert? WOULD I!

I sit on his couch and take small, polite bites of his delicious cake on the coffee table. When he arrives with the drinks, I grab my skirt in an effort to keep my hands to myself.

I take a sip of the foamy, milky coffee, rejoicing in the essence of honey and spices.

"Did you even bother to look inside the cup before you had a sip?"

I pull the cup down from my lips, which are foamy with steamed milk, and stare down into the coffee. The sip I had taken had not erased the image of a heart he had swirled out of the steamed milk.

"Lovely." I tell him, smiling meekly. I take another sip, now careful to keep the heart in the cup as long as possible, as much as I want to lick it off right away.

For several minutes the room is silent as the two of us sip our coffee. I blush at his philosophical gaze through the corners of my eyes, wondering what he is thinking about. Is he working on a Gedanken symphony in his head? Or is it just mundane, trivial daily errands that are on his mind? Or is there something he wishes to say...?

I know he wishes to say something to me. I just KNOW it. I swallow the heart (which by now is beginning to fade away) and open my mouth to break the ice.

"So... how was last night with my brother?"

Roderich holds his finger out at me to hold on for one moment while he finishes chewing and swallowing the Sachertorte in his mouth and pats the crumbs off his lips with his hanky.

"We had a splendid time. I do believe he is beginning to warm up."

I smile. It warms my heart that Big Brother is happy, even if it means my Roderich is with someone else. Well, I don't know for sure that that is the case, and it is probably not my business to pry too much into their personal affairs. All I can do is ask innocuous questions and maybe then I can put some of the pieces together.

"Does it... warm your heart having your old best friend being... friends with you again?"

Roderich swallows his current swig of coffee rather fast before putting his cup abruptly back onto the coffee table. "I am not sure that I should say that we are friends... well, friends, certainly, but, ahem... allies we are not."

Roderich picks up a satiny pale lilac colored pillow out of a sewing basket and begins to pull a threaded needle in and out of it. "That... incident that happened between the two of us last week illustrates why alliances can be dangerous. To favor one side is to disfavor another. And that is how wars break out."

"I see."

"Which is why I, like your brother had ages before me, pledged to be neutral. Not that I had much choice in the matter." Roderich hangs his head, almost guiltily, and stares blankly at the pillow for a moment.

"But just because you are neutral does not mean that you cannot show affection to the ones you love, does it?"

Roderich turns up from the pillow and smiles. "Of course not. And if I must say, you were... well... are enjoying the Kaffee and Torte, I presume?"

I nod, smirking slightly, pleased that he is too much of a gentleman to fully mention that I was good in bed.

Roderich takes another bite of Sachertorte, washes it down with another sip of coffee and resumes his embroidery project. "For many years I have been forbidden to see my ex-wife Elizaveta, but just last year she was able to break free from Ivan's shadowy puppet control, and I watched her ripping down the barb wire between our borders and running out to hug me. What a joyous day it was, and we had a splendid time at the Opernball for the first time in decades earlier this year."

"That's good to hear."

"Unfortunately, she is rather involved with the Persian Gulf war at the moment, and so she won't be able to make it to this year's Kaiserball."

"That's too bad."

"Indeed. Only last year was the first time she ever got to be my escort there - I began the ball during the not-too-long-ago time that she was a satellite state."

Roderich sighs. "So I talked to your brother about it - now you know he isn't one much for that sort of thing at all..."

Roderich's face turns to an expression of slight frustration as he pulls out the thread in the pillow to correct an error he apparently made. "...and so I asked for his consent, and he said yes..."

I snort with torte in my mouth. Big Brother at a Viennese ball?

"...and now I would like to ask... if you would like to be my escort to Kaiserball 1990."

I drop my fork with a bit of cake on it. Roderich... asked ME... not me asking him... to the KAISERBALL...

I try to compose myself, already shaking somewhat from the caffeine. "I... I would be... honored to attend with you, Roderich."

"Thank you. Now, it seems you are ready to have another piano lesson?"

Indeed, I am. He teaches me some Mozart piano piece that I really like (I can never remember the opus numbers and such).

When I get ready to exit the door, I hear Roderich say, "Oh, well, it appears I have just finished."

He walks over to me with the pillow in his hand. It has a picture of a white flower embroidered on it, which I recognize as edelweiss.

"I would like for you to have this. Vash did mention that you, er, like pillows."

"Danke." I hug the pillow. It smells like him, and my face tingles from touching it, knowing that it was his own hands that made it.

"And here is an audiocassette I recorded of some of my favorite violin and piano pieces and symphonies on it, including a few that I composed myself."

PERFECT! It's almost as though he were reading my mind... though I am certain that is not the case, otherwise he probably wouldn't have even answered the door to me, after everything he saw...

I put the stuff down and hug him - tenderly, in a reserved manner, same as he does. He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I kiss him back, on the left cheek near the mole, causing him to wince and groan.

I wait until I get home to SQUEE - in the pillow, with the music on, which will help me to fall asleep over the pillow to dream about what the Kaiserball is like.

If I am not already dreaming, that is.

**So there you have it, Clockwork Imagination's requested fluff chapter - pillow fluff, that is ;)**


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